


He Found Out

by LexieH8sU



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Depression, F/M, First story, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, good luck, this is going to be terrible, try to not cringe so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 15:15:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13684278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LexieH8sU/pseuds/LexieH8sU
Summary: One-Shots. The following characters find out you self-harm:-Greg Lestrade-Mycroft Holmes-Sherlock Holmes-John Watson





	He Found Out

\---------------------Mycroft Holmes---------------------

 

You had been depressed for uncountable years now, and only got slightly better when you got a job. You are very high on the food chain, as you work as an assistant to Mycroft Holmes. But, you only got slightly better and that didn't help with your ever-so-sweet 'release' each night. Mycroft had never been about to read you like he did with everyone else, no, you were very secretive and no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't. He only got basic detail.  
You got to the office at 9:46am, your work started at 8:50am usually but you got a bit carried away with the razor blade. You entered Mycroft's office, going to sit at your desk like you usually would.  
"[Y/N], you're late." Mycroft pointed out, 'Well done, Captain Obvious' You thought, not actually saying this of course. You sat down, and immediately started your computer. "Care to elaborate?" Mycroft added, after you did not give an answer.  
"I was- Traffic, I was stuck in traffic." You lied, you were never a good liar. Ever. After you said this, you just went through Mycroft's emails, some were important others were crap.  
"There was no traffic today, if you left at 8:35, like you usually do, you would get here at 8:45 and start work at normal time. That leads me to the conclusion: you were not stuck in traffic." Mycroft said, you could feel his eyes on your head. So what, you had a TINY (It was flippin' huge) crush on him, but he would never like a scarred mess like you, right?  
"I-I-Woke up late, I just woke up late." You lied, you were never a good liar. Ever. You felt like you were suffocating, the tension was thick. Very. Thick.  
"You usually go to bed at 9:00pm, or so I presume as you never answer a call after then." Mycroft replied, after a couple minutes. You pulled on your sleeve, unconsciously, and didn't even think about it. But, Mycroft noticed. "You would have got plenty of sleep." He finished.

*Mycroft's POV*  
I can't work out [Y/N] [Y/L/N]. I know 5 things about her:  
¬She grew up in the North, from her accent probably Lancaster  
¬She has no siblings  
¬She is 35 (I read that in her file)  
¬She has no medical history, only going to the doctors for anti-biotics (I also read)   
¬She is attractive- No wait. No  
NO. Caring is not an advantage. I can't work her out. It was 9:46am and she still wasn't here, unusual. Very unusual. At that very thought, she walked in the door and sat down at her desk, which was in the corner, built into the wall. Her chair had its back to me, so I couldn't see her face. I was about to do something stupid, point out the obvious:  
"[Y/N], you're late." I stated. She didn't answer, probably just tired, right? "Care to elaborate?" I added, after a couple minutes of silence. I saw she was busy reading through my emails, she was a very good assistant and always got the work done.  
"I was-Traffic, I was stuck in traffic." She said, though she, herself, sounded not to sure with her words. I knew she was lying, so to make sure I looked it up on 'Google'. No, no traffic today.. Why would she lie?   
"There was no traffic today, if you left at 8:35, like you usually do," I sound like a creep. "you would get here at 8:45 and start work at normal time. That leads me to the conclusion: you were not stuck in traffic." I finished, still looking at her.  
"I-I-Woke up late, I just woke up late." She lied, terrible liar.   
"You usually go to bed at 9:00pm, or so presume as you never answer a call after then." I wonder why... I noticed she pulled on her sleeve when I said this... "You would have got plenty of sleep." I finished. She did always look tired, sometimes her eyes were red and puffy, you never smiled, you constantly looked around the room all the time... Oh... My mind scattered, sorting out her strange behaviour that I always thought was just her 'normal'...  
¬Anxious  
¬Paranoid  
¬Always looks tired  
¬Low moods  
¬Low self-esteem  
¬Red and puffy eyes  
¬Wincing  
¬Long sleeves  
It clicked. Depression. Okay, Mycroft, it is just depression. She has been working here for two years and a half, she always looks like that. She pulled on her sleeve, meaning one thing... I quickly stood, this beautiful woman can't possibly be doing this to herself... could she? I went over to her desk, and hesitantly grabbed the mouse with her hand still on. She visibly tensed, and I could see she blushed and started figiting. She tried to subtly wriggling out of my grasp, but I held on tighter, she looked very uncomfortable an tried hiding her fearful face, which didn't work. I suddenly grabbed her wrist, which she winced at and squealed a bit but tried to cover it with a cough.  
"Mr. Holmes, what a-are you d-d-doing?" She asked, still not looking at me and trying to pull out of my grasp.   
"[Y/N], all the signs were there all along, but I was to blind to see them." I admitted, she still didn't look up, so I pulled down her sleeve, she tried to jerk away but I tightly held her wrist. I gasped in horror, her arms were littered in scars some were faded, but about ten looked brand new. I carefully ran my finger along each one, avoiding the newest ones. "Why, [Y/N], why?" I said, my voice cracking. How could she do this to herself?  
"I-I-I'm s-sorry M-M-Mr. H-Holmes, i-" She started, but I was growing tired of her calling me 'Mr. Holmes'.  
"Call me Mycroft." I interrupted, probably not the best thing to do...  
"I-i'm s-so s-s-sorry, M-M-M-Mycroft, i-i-if m-m-my w-w-w-work i-is n-not up t-t-t-to st-s-stander-ds." She apologies, her voice trembling. I got an urge to hug her, though I resisted.   
"Why would y-?, [Y/N], your work is no problem, it's good it always is, it's your health.. That's why you were late?" I questioned, she just started sobbing. One thing [Y/N] has never done in front of me in her whole two years and a half is cry in front of me, even when she was being held at gun point.. That's a different tale... I couldn't fight the urge anymore, so I just suddenly hugged her, which placed her forehead was against my stomach. She just cried harder.  
"I-I'm s-s-so s-s-s-s-s-sorry, M-M-Mycroft." She said, between her hiccups and sobs. She was so innocent...  
"You don't need to apologies, [Y/N]. Let me help you. You need help, let me help you." I tried, though I wasn't sure she would accept.  
"C-c-caring is not an advantage." She said, though her voice sounded confident unlike before. I was a bit taken aback by this comment. I did say that once to her, after she broke up with her boyfriend, or rather he broke up with her.  
"It's worth it, with you [Y/N], I will care, I will help you get better, I promise [Y/N], I promise [Y/N]." I repeated, my voice cracking and trembling. I do care, I care for her. She just cried harder and harder. "[Y/N], if you ever feel like doing that ever again, call me. Just, call me." I whispered to her. "Maybe, it is best if you go home." I said, smiling down at her sincerely. I let go of her, as she stood and basically ran out of the room...

*[Y/N]'s POV*  
God. Oh. He. He found out about my depression and scars, he said to call him, he likes me... No, no one likes a scarred mess like you...   
I did my usual thing, got ready for bed, but today's events dawned on me... I had a very strong urge... So I did.. I didn't call him.. I cut and cut, but then I couldn't stop the bleeding. There was to much blood. God. My vision was blurry and I felt dizzy, I immediately reached for the phone, I didn't want to die. No. I had SOMETHING )or someone) to live for. So.. I called him.  
"M-M-Mycroft" I sobbed.  
"[Y/N], what's wrong?" I heard him panic, which got me wondering...  
"Do you care about me, or just that you will have to find another assistant?" I asked him, my voice trembling.  
"I care about you, [Y/N], now tell me, what is wrong." He said, quite quickly, clearly panicking.  
"There's a lot of blood, I didn't mean to, Mycroft, I didn't mean to go so deep. I don't want to greet death, Mycroft. Mycroft, I don't want to die. Mycroft, help." I repeated 'Mycroft, help.' Multiple times.  
"[Y/N], you're going to be fine, okay? I promise. Just carry on talking to me, okay, [Y/N]? Like.. Tell me something, something I may not know." Mycroft said, clearly terrified.  
"I didn't mean to make you so worried, nevertheless there is another assistant to work for you. Mycroft, I don't want to die. Mycroft, I don't want to go, but you shouldn't be so sad, many people want my job, you'll find another within two seconds." I admitted, though it killed me, I swear I heard sirens but it was probably the ringing in my ears.  
"[Y/N], I don't care about a new assistant, okay? I care about you." He said, then I heard the door crash down. Impossible.  
"Mycroft, you're a liar. No one cares, they never will. Please, let me go. I don't want to die, but it's for the best." I said.  
"[Y/N], NO. NO. DON'T GO." He shouted, though I swear I heard him from the other side of the door. I just hung up and sobbed, quite loudly. I heard some muffled voices then the door opened, I saw some blurry doctors and I swore I saw Mycroft. But, I slipped into the unconscious, before I could find out.

*NO ONE'S POV*  
When [Y/N] was out of it, Mycroft paced her hospital room, he had grown to care about the woman and now... He was falling in love.. She had lost so much blood, it was a miracle she survived at all. [Y/N] slowly started to stir and Mycroft looked hopefully at her.  
"[Y/N]. [Y/N], can you hear me? [Y/N]?" Mycroft repeated your name.  
"Yes." You croaked, Mycroft quickly and swiftly planted a kiss on her lips...

 

\----4 YEARS LATER----  
You had just announced to Mycroft, you were pregnant with a baby boy.   
You were pregnant with: Charles Sherlock Holmes.


End file.
